Everand Logo

Welcome to Everand!

  • Discover millions of ebooks, audiobooks, and so much more with a free trial

    Only $11.99/month after trial. Cancel anytime.

    Nuns Looking Anxious, Listening to Radios
    Nuns Looking Anxious, Listening to Radios
    Nuns Looking Anxious, Listening to Radios
    Ebook77 pages16 minutes

    Nuns Looking Anxious, Listening to Radios

    By Helen Humphreys

    ()

    Read preview

    About this ebook

    Alcuin Citation in 1991 for excellence in book design in Canada.

    Nuns Looking Anxious, Listening to Radios is a work in the hazard of retrieval. What sticks in retrospect? Seldom what you would expect, not always the happiness. Otherwise you could train for life, you could actually learn from grandmothers, mothers; poems -- those bodies of lines and spaces -- would not appear unbidden bearing news you hold your breath to hear. Helen Humphreys comes through the rich reproach of the past into the present, a bruise, a beautiful bloom.
    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherBrick Books
    Release dateSep 15, 1990
    ISBN9781771312288
    Nuns Looking Anxious, Listening to Radios
    Author

    Helen Humphreys

    HELEN HUMPHREYS is an acclaimed and award-winning author of fiction, non-fiction and poetry. She has won the Rogers Writers’ Trust Fiction Prize, a Lambda Literary Award for Fiction and the Toronto Book Award. She has also been a finalist for the Governor General’s Literary Award for Fiction, the Trillium Book Award and CBC’s Canada Reads. Her most recent work includes the novel Rabbit Foot Bill and the memoir And a Dog Called Fig. The recipient of the Harbourfront Festival Prize for literary excellence, Helen Humphreys lives in Kingston, Ontario. 

    Read more from Helen Humphreys

    Related to Nuns Looking Anxious, Listening to Radios

    Related ebooks

    Poetry For You

    View More
    View More

    Related podcast episodes

    Related articles

    • Article

      Two Poems by Joseph Brodsky

      May 12, 2020

      Two Poems by Joseph Brodsky
      7 min read

    • Article

      Diaspora Sonnets

      Sep 1, 2022

      The old men drink their spritzers and gossipunder awnings. Red hued and blustery, like two roosters on the side of a road.Skyward they crane their necks and laugh, sometimes they wonder about kings and future kingsand how the muscles peer from their

      2 min read

    • Article

      It’s Come to This

      Sep 1, 2021

      It’s Come to This
      16 min read

    • Article

      Three Poems

      Jul 1, 2023

      Jester-necked pile of ideasfattening by the cutting board.I have known the summer wall,it says slowly. The hillside facessouth into the valley.Dew on the tomato plants.Anything that grows, swarms,bunches itself against a stayand cannot stay. The vine

      4 min read

    • Article

      Four Poems

      Sep 1, 2022

      I whooshedthrough the party. I grewa set of invisible hands. I was flower girlto the Commonwealth where lovers danced a dancecalled the snowdrift. Sugar mapleshelicoptered samarasin my glass. The dogs slackenedin their webs of shade. A democracyof cl

      2 min read

    • Article

      Six Poems

      Jan 1, 2023

      Magic lights near, far,everywhere.Off the kitchen, upthe skinny flight of stairsto the FIRE door, stairwellto the roof, this spot. Tiny lights, tiny tiny lights—Elijah, Sparrow, Shira, Dan.Rust and peeling door-paintin plum, from one dark street toan

      2 min read

    • Article

      Five Poems

      Jan 1, 2020

      How slow is all of this dying? Across the county linea fossil in the making, off-road exhaling last lightin nightmud. A small cat in a steel trap. Pendulous sparrows preen. Holding on for the last bluedark nightwe ate fruited scabs off each other’s m

      4 min read

    • Article

      Four Poems

      Jan 1, 2021

      I learned the world through the bottoms of my feet, barein the creeks of summer, stepping on pebbles, the squidgeof moss between my toes. On hot asphalt, the hop and skipover cracks, feet already toughened by bramble, dirt, the pricklyground of pine

      4 min read

    • Article

      Two Poems by Forough Farrokhzad

      Jun 9, 2020

      O my seventh year, the year I turned sevenO wondrous moment of departureAfter you everything that happened happened in a mass of craziness andinsanity After you the window that had been such a vivid and bright connectionbetween the bird and usbetween

      3 min read

    • Article

      Five Poems

      Jan 1, 2022

      The painting is of a door, its wood so warpedwith moisture it cannot close. It stays ajar leaving a sliver of light—enough to suggestsomething sweet and almost unreachable behind the door—and you sit in yourroom working on the bills or those comforti

      4 min read

    • Article

      In The Ruins Of Paradise

      Dec 17, 2018

      In The Ruins Of Paradise
      18 min read

    • Article

      Spell

      Apr 25, 2018

      Spell
      4 min read

    • Article

      Komorebi

      Nov 6, 2023

      Komorebi
      6 min read

    • Article

      Four Poems

      Jul 1, 2019

      We know the rain must comebut it holds its wet tonguein the sky. We aren’t childrenso mom doesn’t call and we don’tout stay the night playing in halosof streetlights. We lock ourselves indoorswith screens. The air electric.We don’t even corner a bott

      1 min read

    • Article

      Turning Tides

      Aug 2, 2022

      Turning Tides
      3 min read

    • Article

      The Best Rain in Literature

      Apr 14, 2020

      The Best Rain in Literature
      11 min read

    • Article

      Same River Twice

      Feb 3, 2022

      Same River Twice
      8 min read

    • Article

      First Poem After Parting

      Apr 17, 2022

      First Poem After Parting
      1 min read

    • Article

      Two Poems

      Sep 1, 2020

      after Joanna Klink, for Mary Oliver Go out barefoot to the car for what you left,for what you didn’t have enoughhands to hold.Go out as a soft offering for gravel.As a practice swing at walkingfarther and farther from the comforter,from the sighing w

      2 min read

    • Article

      Three Poems

      Sep 1, 2022

      1. Here there’s no rainy season.Sun scalds my forehead,yet the pool is empty. Beside it,a toppled table, its glass surface shattered.The asphalt is too hot for bare feet. 2. Far away: white hillocksand white dunes under a deepblue sky. Swirling winds

      5 min read

    • Article

      Commonplace Book

      Jun 1, 2022

      Try to praise the mutilated world. Remember June’s long days, and wild strawberries, drops of rosé wine. The nettles that methodically overgrow the abandoned homesteads of exiles. —Adam Zagajewski, “Try to Praise the Mutilated World,” tr. by Clare C

      4 min read

    • Article

      Three Poems

      Jan 1, 2024

      “the possibility of joy in the face of death” —Georges Bataille Couldn’t get “I” nor “we” to settle down, stay unresolved in time in crisp white burial shirts could do bouts of theatrical weeping weary though exacting avant garde gestures of the carp

      4 min read

    • Article

      Four Poems

      Jul 1, 2018

      the Bradford Pears, green-and-white globes of my girlhoodwhose smell I’ve tried to name for years, settling on piss, but walking by a row of them on my way to the grade school,I thought baking soda. Junk trees, those spring debutantes stinking in the

      2 min read

    • Article

      Five Poems

      May 1, 2019

      “My arm is so brown and so beautiful,” is a thought I haveas I’m about to turn off the lamp and go to sleep.I look at it a moment in the soft glow, and see it, briefly,as though it belonged to someone else. A reddishkind of brown, like a toasted almo

      7 min read

    • Article

      Five Plague Octets

      May 1, 2022

      The wolf plans to live with the lamb, the leopardto lie with the goat. It’s written in stoneand onion skin. The lion will eat straw,the snake will eat dust. It’s prophesiedin ball point on the palm of your hand.The date has been fixed for the wedding

      1 min read

    • Article

      Three Poems

      Nov 1, 2021

      That the semi-circular canal is part of my ear,not a style of Venetian waterway arch,I learned mid-air on a Huffy.That bicycles left long out in the rain split.That prepositions are tricky.That I was made part industrious,part lazy-assed. That descri

      3 min read

    Related categories

    Reviews for Nuns Looking Anxious, Listening to Radios

    0 ratings

    0 ratings0 reviews

    What did you think?

    Tap to rate

    Review must be at least 10 words

      Book preview

      Nuns Looking Anxious, Listening to Radios - Helen Humphreys

      2^book_preview_excerpt.htmlU]6+z ˽e!4B?uI ^zN*9h25k giSv76L1NjYZkkiVo:)~Gjѧ뻶mj25ر]d%̐[!0]\9~DRLfG΅wMdYÓ&37#zhm1vקLf L 5Pq]I6< o%=yVE^ A,1ط;v<9Зi^S";b=#ys S@q#67dTiM%D+CJ95aR.KSu|<*dRHٚ {I%ac_j29Dm-@@6Ё*< 9W̝\U8W;SeOu b-s4YrEjG rqa0+#+MuoL-0y8xg#/=x7l)Hq5N,"{9Ibb3]&ax,>3$=8@oIsG7?YD
      Enjoying the preview?
      Page 1 of 1